Mind of the Young
by Kyle-The Jew
Summary: Something is wrong in South Park, but what is it? Is it even easy to see? see what happens in this tale told through the interchangeable eyes of the four boys.
1. Default Chapter

The sun shone brightly in the midday Colorado town of South Park. Not hot enough to freeze the snow on the ground, but hot enough for people to walk around in mild comfort. The town is small, maybe with four and a half thousand people living there. Even then, you would think it was even smaller because only one main road. Most businesses were located there, and down the road about half the population lived on the road and it's little, two block offsprings. Most of those roads are fairly well kept, but then an old railway intercrosses and if by magic the roads turn into potholes and the houses look like shacks. The first house is so small that the garage is bigger than it. Stray animals move about the neighborhood and nobody pay's any attention to them. There are some cars, but only a few look drivable. Most are as dead and gone as the railroad is, now the homes of strays. Most people in the town just turn away from their side of town, not acknowledging its existence. But, nonetheless, there are a few who call this neighborhood home. Just on this side of the road lives a family called the McCormicks. This family is a good example of the poverty in the city. The walls of the house used to be painted, but the paint has mostly peeled off. There is a kitchen that is part of the living room and three bedrooms. The living room has a TV and a Colicovision, but neither has been touched in a long time. The ground is littered with Porno's and with general filth. There is a couch and a chair, and both are more like sitting on sharp needles than sitting on couches. The mother is about, just coming in through the front door. She makes her way past the living room. She is little shorter than most adults, has red hair that looks more like a mop than a piece on a human being. She is dirty and has various bruises on her. She is wearing a green shirt that once was bright, but now is faded and the words on the shirt unrecognizable. She is wearing bluish-grey pants that also are faded, bringing the question of whether the pants are regularly grey or if it is because of the fade. She walks into the hallway and knocks on a door that holds her son, Kenny McCormick.   
  
"Kenny, it's nearly One PM. get your buns up."   
  
Kenny woke up from a deep slumber. He was average height, and, like most kids in the poor district, very thin. He had blonde hair and blue eyes, and when compared to the rest of his family he had friends and had good hygiene. He got out of his bed which gave a sickening springing noise and made his way to his closet, which contained nothing but Orange Parka's and pants. He grabbed one of each and put them on.   
  
"Kenny, come on! It's One! You're friends are waiting for you!"   
  
"Coming mom."   
  
Kenny took one last glance at his room. The bed's sheets were untidy; his bed almost counted as nothing but springs. It had been his ever since he was four, and it was one of the only constants in his life except for poverty, beatings, and orange parkas. The paint in his room was also peeling, but unlike the living room wall Kenny tried to keep this wall painted, but he could never get the material needed. The floor was littered with porn taken from his father. He had a poster of questionable morality hanging above his bed.   
  
"Kenny! Get your buns out here right now!"   
  
"Ok, ok, I'm coming."   
  
He opened the door and saw his mother, a scowl on her face.   
  
"Kenny, I told you to come out here. What was taking you so darn long?"   
  
"Nothing, ma. I was just groggy, that's all."   
  
"Well, okay. Do you want something to eat before you go outside to play?"   
  
"No, I'm fine. See you later."  
  
Kenny headed out the door very quickly. Staying in the house was only smart when it came to going to bed. He'd eat at a friends, his family had nothing but waffles and bread. Not exactly gourmets feast. That had been the story of his family: Not exactly this, not exactly that. Nothing exactly. His family loves him, but not exactly in the way that his friend's parents loved them His family was a disaster, but not exactly the biggest disaster. You could see that in the immediate area. In his neighborhood, drug dealers walked around freely, and the people waited anxiously for some awesome disaster to kill them all. They were all pessimists. But, who could blame them? Only a few people here had jobs, and crime was rampant. Maybe that was because the already small South Park police could hardly contain Downtown, let alone tango with the poor and desperate. Kenny walked onto his lawn, and looked at how terrible it looked. The grass was up heaved, and many animals used it as a toilet. Kenny thought-   
  
"Kenny! What are you doing looking at shit? You going to play or not?"   
  
Kenny looked up to see Stan Marsh. Stan was al little taller than Kenny, and was of average build and had a look about him that just screamed leader. He wore a blue hat with red trimmings and a red bob at the top. He wore a brown coat and brownish-blue pants. He had been Kenny's friends ever since they were just babies, and Stan had always been the "leader" of Kenny and the other friends. Stan was the most level-headed one, but there had been a change in his personality recently. All questions about this were deflected or otherwise thwarted.   
  
"I'm coming...hey, where's Kyle and cartman?"   
  
"Cart man's sick and Kyle's at his house. We're getting him after this."   
  
Kenny nodded and joined Stan. They started walking to Kyle's house, which was a complete one-eighty from Kenny's. They passed the Railroad, and Kenny couldn't help but think what this area looked like back when it was in commission. Trains stopping in this town probably stopped right there, and where Kenny's house was most likely where the station was located. People pushing through the crowds made their way past all these houses and on the other side was probably where people would walk towards town. In fact, it was most likely after the train died that they built the "houses" on the other side. There, all the bums and idiots moved. Smart choice.   
  
They moved past the railroad and entered Stan's part of town. The good part. Here, the houses were of medium height, medium everything. Your regular American houses. There was nothing really special there. The cars ranged from Station wagons to SUV's, and each one did not reflect the personality of the people inside, as the cars should. It was also pretty much crime free, as if the druggies, gang members, and other crime fellows were scared by the big cars and good people. No, more likely, it was the fact that in this redneck town, these people owned guns, and very few of them were scared to use them.   
  
"So, Kenny, how are you doing?"   
  
"I'm okay. I slept in late today. Didn't feel like getting up."   
  
"I know what you mean. The last few days have been soggy. I've wanted to sleep in to."   
  
"That's cool."   
  
Kenny didn't really feel like talking. In fact, he was a push over in normal conversation. He didn't feel the need to talk all the time, only when needed. Maybe he was strange. Who knows? He didn't. And that's all he knew. Soon, they cam up to Kyle's house. It was bigger than all of the others houses, and was the second biggest house in South Park. Stan went up to the door and knocked on it. Sheila Broflovski answered. She was shorter than most adults, and was overweight. She wore earrings on both ears, and was well dressed.   
  
"Hello, boys."   
  
""Hi. Can Kyle come out and play?"   
  
"Sure. Come in."   
  
They entered Kyle's house. It was well furnished, and like most houses in South Park it had a downstairs and an upstairs. The living room, kitchen, and one bathroom were downstairs. All the rooms and another bathroom were upstairs. The living room contained a couch that was well made, a good TV, a Nintendo, and there was a chair and several desks. The desks had pictures on them, and on the desks were the only traces of the household religion, Judaism. A dreidel sat on the desk that contained the full family picture. Kyle was on the left, with his adopted brother Ike on his mothers lap. The father, Gerald, was above Kyle. Kyle himself was sitting on the couch. He had a green hat, green gloves, and an orange jacket. He had heavy hiking boots on. He was the smartest one of the boys, and was one of the brightest people in the town. But, as in most things, for every plus there was a minus. He was a Jew. And even though Kenny had nothing against Jews, it was main sticking points for this town as Kyle and his family were the only Jews who lived here. There were some other Jews in the surrounding towns and they went to the South Park synagogue, so it looks like there is a thriving Jewish community when there was none.   
  
"Kyle, Kenny and I are going to play. Wanna join?" Stan said.   
  
"Yeah, sure. Ma, I'll be home in time for dinner. See you!"   
  
"Bye." Kyle joined them and they started walking.  
  
They continued walking for maybe ten minutes, and they entered downtown. It wouldn't even count as...well, anything, in most places, but in this town it was the highlight. The vast majority of businesses were here, and city hall was here. It was quite. Ten, maybe twenty people were walking on the street and a couple of cars were driving on the well paved road. Like the residential part of the road, it had little offsprings. Go there, and you would find alternative entertainment, most of it adult. You could find the other big road, De las Mexicanos, and lead all the way out of town. It was here that you find the only transportation for the farmers and other rednecks that lived here. If you were involved with any business or anything having to do with anything in South Park, you owned something on the Main Road. About halfway through, you could find the South Park Park. It was maybe a block, and it sucked. Kids hardly hung out there, instead going to the woods or Starks Pond. It was used for political rallies and for speeches. It surprised Kenny the amount of shit that went down here, and you could keep tabs on it by going to there and talking with one person........pretty much at random. It didn't really matter though. The mayor made no decisions that had effect on the people. She was a douche. And the worst part was, however, was that lack of leadership trickled down the ladder. The police chief was Officer Barbrady. He was, bar none, the worst police officer on god's green earth. He didn't know how to read until two years ago, when they were just eight. The other 14 officers of the police department were potent, but they were being led by a man who couldn't lead a dog in a circle. Thank god those police worked here. It would be a shame to see them work the streets of Denver, Sugar City, Boulder or Middle Park. Well, that was enough talk about the sad state of South Park politics.   
  
"Shit, it's starting to rain." Kyle said.   
  
Kenny looked up and saw that the rain was indeed dropping. Right now, it was only a light hit, but you could just sense that any minute from then it would start pounding you like a heavyweight boxer.   
  
"Well....how about we see a movie?" Stan suggested." I got ten dollars."   
  
""I got five. That makes fifteen. Each ticket is three, so we'll have six bucks for snacks and shit." Kyle responded.   
  
"Well, that's cool. Kenny?"   
  
"Wha?"   
  
"You have any money?" Stan asked jokingly.   
  
"Yes, I have a hundred dollar bill in my fucking ass. Let me get it." Kenny responded angrily.   
  
"Okay, sorry dude. I was just joking." Stan said.   
  
They started towards the movieplex, which was called Bijou. Kenny wondered why it was called that. It didn't matter. It was a small theater that housed four screens, and two movies were playing at the same time. The lobby was a main hang out for kids, as it had a mini arcade and was bigger than many lobby's. It was in times like this that kids would come into the Theater and just hang. The employee's didn't really care. The kids were paying their salaries. They didn't want to piss them off. Stan, Kyle and Kenny walked up to the ticket counter. They handed the fifteen dollars and were granted permission to watch a drama called "Alexander's Gambit". They could care less. They were just going to hang out in the lobby. They walked through the door and into the lobby. As expected, there were eight other kids there. Kenny didn't know any of them, and they didn't seem to really want to communicate with them either. They looked like Goths, piercings, dyed hair, and other signs of Goths. They were chatting at the far side of the lobby, absorbed in their own world. Stan and the others walked over to the candy counter, which was manned by a cheery lady.   
  
"How can I help ya?"   
  
"Umm....We'll take three bags of Crunchy Munchies." Stan said." And three Sprites."   
  
"That'll be six dollars please." The lady said.   
  
"Nah, I don't want anything." Kenny said.   
  
"You sure, Kenny?" Kyle asked. Kenny nodded.   
  
"Okay, make that four dollars."   
  
Stan gave the lady a five dollar bill and was rewarded with one dollar in return. The boys headed over to the little arcade. There were three games, and they had titles that the boys didn't know or care about. To the kids, they were called the Shooting Game, the Other Shooting Game, and the Racing Game. The two shooting games had guns that the boys could toy around with. The second one was awesome. They had Machine gun like guns that had small recoil. The game was also a lot longer. They had no idea what the plot was, but whatever it was not needed. Stan and Kyle were excellent at that. They even owned the third highest score. Kenny ruled over the racing game. He was able to make sharper turns than almost anybody else. He didn't have a high score, but he was damn good. They all sucked royally in the first shooting game. Cartman was good at it. It required no skill, just luck. Stan and Kyle took their places at the games controls and soon the sounds of gunfire were heard. Kenny could only look on as Stan and Kyle worked towards whatever it was they were going towards. Kenny could see their different styles. Stan was a blaster. He used more ammo than Kyle and was hit more. Kyle, on the other hand, was more selective. He used short bursts and took down targets more selectively than Stan. Both had their advantages. Stan noticed more targets and was able to deal death at close rage. Kyle was able to stay alive longer and take out threats from afar. This went on for a long time, and about twenty minutes into it the boys beat the first level.   
  
"Can I have a quarter?"   
  
"Yeah, take the quarter from the desk."   
  
Kenny went over to the desk near the games and took a quarter and plopped it into the racing game. He raced for a while, and then got bored. Stan and Kyle were still playing the shooting game, and still owning. Kenny sat down on the table in the lobby and closed his eyes and started to think.  
  
He wasn't able to do this often, but when he did, he wished he hadn't. The thoughts were always the same. He wanted to get out of poverty. He wanted to do well in school. He wanted to become somebody.   
  
But then, reality strikes back.   
  
His family had no ambition. His dad was a drunk who gets in frequents fights with his wife, and can't hold a job. There are also some points where his drunken stupors turn him against his own children. They were never bad enough to make Kenny fight back, but mad enough to wonder why he deserved this. When it came to school, it was a total loss. The kids were taught by a douche bag teacher and he taught the kids everything wrong. Kenny had it harder because other parents could tutor their kids after school, while he was stuck with just the public school and its crappy system. Even worse, South Park was always near the bottom of the list for school resources. When it came to becoming somebody, which was a far reaching thought. He was ten, just barely getting out of the fifth grade. Not really the time to think about the future. But when was it? His dad had not ever answered that question. It was the hardest one to answer because the answer was different than any other one. It required a lot of knowledge about yourself, which Kenny lacked. But, he had no role model to look up to. He glanced over to Stan and Kyle, and frowned. He wondered if they would ever understand how good they had. Sure, they had their problems, but he thought that they were more like pluses. Kyle's family was over-protective. Kenny would die for that kind of affection. Having a family that would fight and shield him from harm....a dream. Stan had the one flaw that Kenny could relate to: Family violence. His older sister had always beaten the shit out of him, and just like Kenny he stood there and took it. This was due to the fact that Stan was both raised properly and probably wouldn't hit girls, while Kenny's problem was the fear of a terrible beating at the hands of a man so much stronger than he. Kenny then thought about how even though people pitied him, they never helped him. He would receive worried glances everyday, but no one ever said "here, take 5 bucks and get yourself a burger." No, people were to busy to help. They all had financial problems, and that made him laugh. THEY had problems? HA! They were saying that as they bought the best beef in the state, and got milk that was of high quality. They had no problems, and they knew it. That's why they always turned away, to avoid looking at him and lying. Kenny then turned his thoughts to the Goths, over there smoking. It was weird, this town. They had every minority, but only like one or two of each. That meat that instead of other cultures being absorbed and changing, there was just one blank culture. The same, routine one. You were just another person; you were the same as everybody else. That was the complaint from the newer people, a lack of flavor. That's the way that the old townspeople wanted it, to be stale and non-dangerous. South Park had just come out of its deadly stage, with aliens and other weird shit. People died a lot, and now that it was all boring, people loved it that way. If it were up to certain people, then the town would have a schedule for everybody so that there was no confusion on what was going to happen.   
  
Stan and Kyle finished their game, placing sixth. Their name, S&K, now occupied the third, fourth and sixth spots. All the rest were under the name ALX, and whoever it was had attained a perfect score. People were stunned when they had heard that. That game was hard as fuck, and one guy had managed to go in and never miss or get hit, completed the game in under thirty-five minutes, had rescued every hostage and had killed every boss in under fifteen seconds. That was amazing, but not nearly as amazing as the rain that was pounding the sidewalk outside like a little bitch.   
  
"Wow, it's really coming down out there." Kyle said, a little worried.   
  
Stan shrugs his shoulders." Don't worry. We have" He looked at how much they have left "One twenty five. We're good. Plus, we haven't even touched our food or drinks."   
  
They look at their untouched food and drink.   
  
"Yeah, good point." Kyle said, and he triumphantly lifted his soda took a gulp. Stan followed suit and Kenny felt obliged to follow suit.   
  
"So, Stan, what do you want to do after it stops raining?" Kenny asked.   
  
"Well, it'll be around five so I will go home."   
  
"Really? You guys eating dinner early today?" Kyle asked.   
  
"No...I just need some time."   
  
"Why?"   
  
"For no reason. That's why. But, I'm all for ideas." Stan said. His voice at the start was quick and had a bite to it. That had been his first reaction to all questions about what he was doing. Kyle had confided in Kenny that he was worried shitless by this. Stan and Kyle had been best friends since they were just infants, and they shared all secrets. Kyle and Stan would take a bullet for each other, and while Kyle was still sure of that, something in Stan had changed so that he now kept all of his private secrets locked away behind a barrier of bite and fierceness. Whatever had happened had changed his school ways; He had been an average student but was now hanging on by a thread. He also got into many fights, and when Stan got into a fight, it became big. His friends would fight with him, and the kid who he was fighting would get his friends. It happened a lot out of school, but that was the way of the world. In school was a different story, and that was where the shit hit the fan. Teacher's would stop the fights, kids would be sent home, and soon even the dumbass faculty were catching on to the fact that something on with Stan. He was in counseling with Mr. Mackey, the school's okay counselor, but from what he heard Mackey couldn't even get him to say anything. It was disturbing to say the least.   
  
"Well......we could go over to Cartman's and see how he's doing." Kyle suggested.   
  
"Yeah...that could be a good idea."   
  
They sat there and were discussing games. Kenny had little interest in that conversation, but the other two were chatting it up. It was funny, really. Kenny was little more than a ghost most of the time. But soon, they moved it slowly to what Kenny referred to school politics. It was kind of cool because he could play a part in it. Stan had his main group which had Kyle, Kenny and Cartman, but unlike the others who had no other real connections, Stan had Goths, outcasts, and people from every school ladder somehow allied with him. Not that he really cared or that it mattered. He was convinced that his top four were good enough to handle anything....he had a lot more confidence in them then Kenny did. Kyle could fight well, and Stan could to, but Cartman was a pussy and Kenny was little more than an extra body. He wasn't much of a fighter, and he knew that. But, it wasn't like the other groups were badasses. Craig's foursome was weak to say the least. Him, Token and Clyde were with some other kid, but they all were all talk and no walk. There were some other groups that came and went. It surprised Kenny that he and Stan were part of the only foursome going. That's because the other's were made just for survival, not out of fr-   
  
What the hell was he talking about?   
  
He chuckled out, and that caught Stan's attention.   
  
"Kenny, what's so funny?"   
  
"Listen to us. We're talking like we're fucking gang members discussing hits and how to take over the school."   
  
They all broke out laughing, realizing how dumb they looked to the people that were just leaving the theater.   
  
"Hey, we have tickets. Let's go and see that stupid movie." Kyle said.   
  
"Well, why not?"   
  
The three made their way into the theater and took seats near the front. The theater was empty, which was a mark on how good the movie was. The movie was a tour de shit. It was about a badass who did badass stuff and in return looked even more badass.   
  
"Kyle, I've seen shit that I'd rather watch than this." Stan whispered.   
  
"Besides Mr. Hankey?" Kyle whispered back.   
  
"Dudes, no need to whisper...WE HAVE THE THEATER TO OURSELVES!" Kenny cried out.   
  
"Dude!"   
  
"Sorry. Had to do that,"   
  
"Okay, we won't whisper. Just....don't yell like that...and Kyle, yes, I'd rather watch a load of pig shit than watch this." The movie continued for two hours until the badass killed the other badass in the final badass battle. After burning their eye's for two hours under the searing blaze of retardedness the boys left the theater to gaze outside. They saw that the rain had all but stopped.   
  
"Goddamn, was the movie so bad that it stopped the rain?" Kyle said half-seriously.   
  
"It might be, dude, it might be." Stan replied, completely serious.  
  
The three boys walked out onto the sidewalk. The ground was an odd sight. The snow looked like it was being melted, but the small patches of ground shown were very wet, showing signs of being rained on. The few patches of ground also were little more than mud. A few people were out, and most of them were still moving quickly. In this region, a storm might just turn around and deliver a knockout punch after it looked like it had left. The boys were walking faster than before, and were passing various businesses. Cartman lived on the main road also, but he lived on the opposite end. Good thing, Kenny thought. Keep as much distance between Cartman and real humans as long as possible. The longer the distance, the less his impact on humans. Maybe you shouldn't be so hard on him, Kenny thought. Kenny thought that he must be a very disturbed little boy. A hermaphrodite mother whose occupation was one of a whore could screw any of them up. But, still, Cartman was unhealthy for them all. It was a wonder that they were friends. Cartman would make fun of them all and was a nasty person. He would constantly rip on Kyle for being Jewish and having a conscious. He would make fun of Kenny because of the way he looked because of his...economic situation. He would then move onto Stan because of his heart-which was one of a lover. Stan had like three girlfriends and was balancing them out. Cartman was probably upset that females took one look at him and then looked away in disgust.   
  
Soon, they were in the second residential district on the road. It looked just like the road, save the poor and hungry. Here, Kenny guessed, was where it went down. Closer to city hall, and the police station by the way, Kenny could only guess that here was where the internal politics and life of the town was brought to life. Kenny was almost never here except to see Cartman. There was never a reason too. The only person who came to this part of the town was Stuart, and that was to bar...so he guessed the McCormick's had a "Voice" in town politics, though a drunken one. The Marsh's had a good voice, as Randy Marsh was the town's best scientist....though Mephisto would argue that he was better. He wasn't better: he was insane enough to try anything. The Broflovski's had a very, very strong voice these day's in politics here. Gerald was a lawyer who had just won a state televised trial, and Sheila could rile people up and rally support like General Patton on speed. Rumor had that Gerald might try to run for mayor in next year's election. Kyle doubted that. But then again, he doubted a lot of things. He was just a very careful person at times, but even he cut loose at times. And when Kyle let loose, he went all out. Not that it ever really mattered: It took more than a powerful storm to move his mountain of a mind.   
  
They were at Cartman's house, and to this day it served as a testament that being a whore who did cover shots for Crackwhore magazine was good business. It was almost as big as Kyle's house and had the same build. They also had a Mini-van slash SUV. Besides that, nothing really out there was evident.   
  
Stan knocked on the door, and after a second or two delay, Liane Cartman opened the door. She was-on the outside- a sweet old lady....but underneath that facade was something weird and disturbing. She was a hermaphrodite, or someone with both male and female....parts. This was, most likely, one reason why Eric was an asshole. It also meant that Liane was Eric's dad, and his mother was unknown. She also was a dirty rotten slut who had slept with the majority of the towns men and women. This was how she got money, but the major cash flow came from her photo shots for Crack Whore magazine. She wore red pants and a blue shirt with white trimmings at the top, and she had brown hair and had lipstick on her lips.   
  
"Hello, boys. How are you feeling today?"   
  
"Fine, Miss Cartman. Is Cartman here?" Stan asked.   
  
"Oh, yes he is boys, but I don't think you should see him."   
  
"Why?"   
  
"Well, boys, he is really sick."   
  
"We know that." Kyle said. "Can we please see him?"   
  
"...Ah, okay. I suppose it would do him good."   
  
They were led into Eric's house. There was nothing amazing about it. They walked up to Cartman's room.  
  
It was well-furnished...very well furnished. He had his own computer, and a good one at that. He had a moderately sized TV on a drawer opposite his bed. He had a good number of toys, and often played with them. The room was painted and carpeted, and overall Kenny thought that more time and money went into making this room then in his entire house. But, Cartman had little time to notice this. He was the shortest of the boys, but weighed almost as much as Stan and Kenny put together. He wore a light-blue hat with yellow trimming and a red jacket and yellow gloves. He had brown hair that was usually well-groomed, but right now his hat was off and his hair was a tangled mob.   
  
"Hey, Cartman." Stan said. Cartman looked sicker than any of the boy's though that he was. He was sweating, and his face was a weird shade of pinkish-red.   
  
"Hi, what the fuck are you guys doing here?" Cartman said, angry for no reason. This drew a small chuckle from Kyle. Cartman was a pure asshole, and it was to be expected that when his friends came to check on him that he would respond with anger. It was the Cartman way.   
  
"Nothing, we just want o make sure that you're not just fakin' to stay home tomorrow." Stan said.   
  
"Oh? Well, ah guess you know now that I'm sick, right?" he said.   
  
"Well, not really. You are a good faker." Kenny spat out.   
  
"Shut up, ya poor piece of crap." Cartman said with conviction. Kenny gave Cartman a look, but he knew that Cartman knew that Kenny knew that Kenny couldn't hurt Cartman. Kyle could. Kenny was sure as hell Stan could. But Kenny couldn't.   
  
"Well, I mean, you have faked being so sick that the school called the hospital." Kyle said.   
  
That made them all burst into laughter. Cartman had faked having a really bad case of the flu and been sent to the nurse. There, the school nurse, Miss Gollum, had called Hell's pass hospital. They had come and it was only on the way there that they realized he was not sick.   
  
"Screw you, Kyle. I'm really sick this time." Cartman said.   
  
"Well, who cares? See ya, fatass!" With that statement by Stan, the four boys left.   
  
"Screw you, hippy!" the boys heard as they left the room and went down the stairs. At the bottom they were confronted by Liane, who was holding cookies and milk.   
  
"Would you boy's mind having some cookies and milk?" she asked. Kyle and Stan both declined under the reasoning of the now approaching darkness, but Kenny accepted. This was going to be the last time today he could really eat. He was led to the living room, where Liane handed him a good glass of milk and then was given a small plate of cookies. Kenny took one of the chocolate cookies and took a big chunk out of it. His family lived on waffles and bread, so having a cookie was like having water in the desert. He took the remote for the TV that sat across from him and turned it on. It was on a news channel, so Kenny turned it to a channel that had cartoons. He didn't really watch, but he payed attention close enough. This might be the last time he watches TV for a few weeks. Had to savor it. Liane would refill his milk for him twice, and he would finish all the cookies before she could yawn. He glanced at the clock.   
  
"Fuck."   
  
It was 7:22. He needed to be home in a few minutes, and he lived in the complete opposite part of town. There was no way-   
  
"Umm, miss Cartman, could you drive me home? I need to be home very soon."   
  
"Okay. Be out there in a minute."   
  
Kenny ran out to the mini-van, and was buckled in before Liane was out. The van was good, and Liane got in the car and they started off. 


	2. Chapter One Part two

Disclaimer: No, i do not own South Park. Trey Parker and Matt Stone do. Tell me why i would be doing fafics If i did work on the show?!  
  
Okay, this is a really short chapter. It used to be one big chapter, but my wordpad fucked up and it split up.  
  
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Liane was a pretty good driver, Kenny thought. But then again, he really didn't have a lot to compare it to. They were making good time on the well paved roads, and soon they were in downtown. City hall was on the left side, and through the window with blue curtains Kenny could see the mayor looking out through window at her city. She must have felt powerful, looking out through the second tallest building in town. Knowing that was she said was law, and if it wasn't, Barbrady was too incompetent to stop her. Kenny really didn't care. The politics of the town were non-existent in the poor district. Kenny glanced at the clock in the car and it said 7:28. Shit. He needed to be home soon. Kenny looked about at the sky. It was now a twighlight, a mix of many colors that formed an awesome looking orange sky. The mountains rose up out of the ground and perched themselves in the sky, and they bathed in all the orange glory the sky offered. Kenny quickly glanced at the clock and then at where they were. They were just passing Stan's house, and that meant they were like twenty seconds away. Kenny un-buckled just as the van hit the railroad. Kenny was bumped up, and Miss Cartman took note of this but otherwise paid little attention to Kenny. They slowed up and the van came to a halt outside Kenny's house. Kenny opened the door.   
  
"Have a nice day, Kenny." Miss Cartman said.   
  
"Bye"   
  
With that, Kenny shut the door and walked onto his lawn. It looked much worse than before. The ground was muddy, and the dog that was moving across it was caked in the brown stuff. Kenny gave it a good look. It was a golden retriever....it looked like the Rayke's dog that they "Lost" a few weeks ago. The Raykes were a well-off family over near Cartman's house. They had bought a dog and did not even name it when they decided that it was a bad dog. It had just vanished, but the people of the poor district now saw a dog that was only just growing out of puppyhood wondering the streets. It was afraid, and would shy away from all humans. And it did not have a change of heart now, as it ran away from Kenny and towards the second house, It's weak and fragile frame moving quickly away. Liane's van turned into Kenny's driveway, and stopped in front of the dilapidated garage, then pulled out and drove away, the sound puncturing the night sharply. Kenny walked up to his door and opened it. He was greeted by the smell of damp wood and noises like a creaking roof. The already peeled walls now had water rolling down them. His mother got a pot and put it under a stream of dripping water. The sound of the water hitting the metal pot was more metal than anything else, more infuriating than anything else, and more soothing than anything else. It was a really confusing sound.   
  
He wore a red hat wit the word SCOTCH written in gold on it. He had brown hair that was terrible, plain terrible. He wore a blue buttoned shirt over a white T-shirt, and both were stained. He wore blue jeans that were torn and looked terrible. Now that Kenny thought about it, everything on his dad looked terrible.   
  
"Kenny, where the hell where you? We've been waiting ten minutes for you to get here" Stuart said, his voice slurred because of the, you guessed it, scotch that he held in his left hand.   
  
"I'm sorry." Kenny said. Stuart was about to respond when Mrs. McCormick interjected.   
  
"Time for dinner.'   
  
They all sat down and took their places at the dinner table. The chairs were very, very old. They were handed down from the last McCormick clan to be in South Park, and they were chipped and otherwise fucked up. The dinner table had stains on it, but Kenny didn't feel like going into specifics about it. His mom brought out a package of frozen waffles, their usually feast. They hooked in an old toaster into the wall, and were set. Only thing in the way now was Stuart's novel for saying grace.   
  
"Lord, we give thanks for all you have given us. Even though you have found it necessary to take our son Kevin from us-"   
  
Kenny's heart dropped heavily into his chest. It had been a hard day. Kevin had been playing in the tunnel that had the railroad. It was where the railroad split into the old, unused tracks and the ones that were used for the train station just outside town. Kevin had been playing when he had been hit in the head with a rock. For some reason, nobody had saved him and he had been hit by a train. There was not even enough of a body to have a real burial. The casket had been filled with...Kenny had no idea. The funeral had been very small, one of the smallest this town had ever seen...but, considering that since everybody knew everybody almost everybody went to everybody else's funerals, it was okay. The Marshs, Broflovskis, Cartmans, and some of Kevin's friends as well a few McCormicks were there. Kenny had been a total wreck, and Stuart had been no help whatsoever, his beatings were worse than ever. Thank the lord almighty for Stan and Kyle. They had been true friends those days.   
  
"-We realize that it is all in your grand scheme. Amen." With that, Stuart popped a waffle into your toaster. The table was quiet; the only sound was that of the fan in its twirling, lethargic, creaking motion and sound. After a minute, the waffle popped out and Stuart took it, and started eating it like it was the last edible item on earth. Kenny took another waffle and put it in. Still, the table was quiet....and more quiet...and still silence. Something was wrong here, Kenny thought. Very wrong. He got his mind off that when the waffle popped out, and his hand reacted with lightning speed and snapped it up. He brought onto his plate, looked at it for a second, then grabbed it and started to eat it. The next two minutes were mechanical. Grab the waffle. Take a bite. Chew. Chew. Chew. Take another bite. Chew. Chew. Chew. Then, leave the table.   
  
Kenny knew that he was autonomous. He was a separate part of this family, and he was expected to wash up and then go to bed. Wash up? More like throw water on yourself. He walked up the creaking floor and opened the door to the bathroom. It was....workable. It was just like every other room in this house: faded, dusted, old, and peeled. Kenny walked up to the sink and turned it on, the water gushing out and into the drain underneath it. Kenny folded his hands and cupped some water, the water flowing off his hands. He pushed his face down and he raised his hands up and water meet face. The water was ice cold, and was oddly soothing, which was odd considering that it was ice fucking cold. He turned the facet off and opened the door and started to his room. He went into his room, took off his hood and jacket, and went to bed. Just as he lay down in his spring bed, he could hear muffled arguing. Just like every other night, the yelling got louder and eventually a thump could be heard, followed by more yelling and more thumps.   
  
Such was the melody of the night.  
  
Kenny was standing alone at the bus stop, and after a while Kenny wandered off into the town. There, his rich father met him and they went to see a movie together while his mom went to the store. Afterwards, they went to the park. Kenny played with his friends, who marveled at how well dressed he was. All was going well. His mother came to the park and hugged her husband.  
  
Then, everything went wrong.  
  
A car pulled up, and out of it came three men armed with shotguns. They ran to Kenny's dad. Stuart tried to run away, but a shotgun blast ripped into him and he fell dead. Then, they shot his mom. Kenny and his friends tried to run, but the men got into a car and the boys ran into the open road, where the killer's car pulled up and a man with a assault rifle popped out, just like Kenny's waffles. The boys ducked as the man fired, the bullets missing Kenny by mere inches and hitting the pavement around him and Stan. The car pulled away, and the boys glanced around. In horror, they saw a terrible toll. Cartman had been shot eight times, blood pouring out of his chest and head and his breathing failing. Kyle had been hit in the gut and arm, and the Kenny gave him a saddened look. The three boys now ran, Stan half dragging Kyle, away from a now speeding car. The car was catching up, and Kenny could see that by sticking with Stan and Kyle he would be slowed down...so he ran. He ran and left them behind. he stopped and looked back to see them at the top of the hill, the sun illuminating them just as shots were heard. The first shots were high and hit Stan, as Kyle had stumbled to the ground. The bullets went right through him, and he dropped and he tumbled down the hill. Kyle had little time to pity as he himself was the victim of a bullet avalache, his head gone in a display that was illuminated perfectly. the car then roared up the hill and hit the bodies as the man aimed at Kenny and fired....  
  
Kenny woke up, screaming.   
  
This was a common dream he had, scary as hell and as real as he. He got off his spring bed and fell onto the floor. Too fucking early. To fucking early to get up and walk around. He got up and staggered into his closet, where he got a parka and pants and put them on. He quickly checked the pockets of his parka...yes, this was the right one. He took out a pack of ciggaretes and stared intently at it. his friends had dropped smoking right after taking the habit up about a year and a half ago, right after they saw "ButtOut", a terrible anti-smoking dancing troupe. It had been so bad that they smoked to try to be the exact opposites of those dancing losers. The others dropped it easily, but Kenny rather enjoyed it now. It releived him of the terrible stress he had here in this house.He searched for his lighter, which he had stolen from Mr. Garrisons room....Fuck, no where to be found. Kenny put the cigs back and opened the door. The hallway was quiet, but at the end he could see a reflection of light. Odd. He was always the first up. That way, he could leave the house before his dad could beat him or make him pissed off, and he would get home late enough so that he would eat and go to bed. the only probelm came when he could'nt go to a friends. He then was forced to go home right after school, and that gave his dad enough time to.....the light was on. Somebody was up. He frowned and stepped out into the living room slash dining room. His dad was slumped in a chair nearest the door, and his mom was getting some hot water. It was the drink of the house.   
  
"Kenny, hunny, we need to talk to you." his mom said. She had a large bruise on her right cheek and a cut on her lip.  
  
"This is very....very important, son." Stuart said, his voice far away.  
  
Kenny sat down at the very chair he had eaten dinner last night. his mom gave him a glass of water and got one for her and Stuart.   
  
"Kenny, we have a idea on how to make some money" Stuart said.  
  
Kenny looked up abruptly. Money? sweet jesus!  
  
"We will rent Kevin's old room to somebody for like $500 a month."  
  
Kenny looked down. This was low. kevin's room would now be occupied by a hobo with money, or worse.  
  
"We already have a taker. I don't know his name, but he'll be moving in on Saturday."  
  
"Well, okay. I got to go."  
  
"It's like Six twenty."  
  
"See ya."  
  
With that, Kenny left. He ran out the door and into the night. The sun was not up yet, but when he left it was always dark. He would go to the bus stop and wait for a few hours, but today he felt like thinking and speaking with someone who knew about the world better than he. That man lived in Stan's neighborhood. That man was Chef. He was the boy's connection to the adult world, as well as a good chef in the Elementary school's cafeteria. He was black, and therefore recognizable in the almost one hundred percent white town. He was also level headed, which was what the kids needed. Kenny started jogging to his house, his feet pounding the snow and making footprints deep enough to house a family of mice. It was cold as hell, and Kenny cold feel the nip eating at his extremeties. But, it was better than what it would normally be. He was thinking, though the thoughts were scrambled. Too early, too much, and too fucking weak. Chef would be able to help. He always did. Kenny kept on jogging, and soon he was able to see Chef's house. Goddamn, this was a small town. He had ran here in like five minutes. He ran onto Chef's lawn. It was well-groomed, and there were hedges that were under the windows and flanked the stairs. It was a good house, but Kenny always wondered how he got the money. Chef was a chef. How could he afford this? Well, that was small fries right now. Kenny knocked on the door, and he could feel the holow sound echo in the house. There was no answer. Again, he knocked. He could hear something on the other side. He waited, and soon the doorknob was turning. The door opened, and chef stood there. he was average height, but he weighed alot. Who could blame him? he was a great cook. His stomach stretched the red shirt that he wore. He also had a chef's hat, which was at times comical to see. His pants were blue, and they were the only thing that fit him.  
  
"Uhh...Kenny, how are you? I was bout to head out for work."He said. His voice was deep and very manly...which fit him. He was the ultimate ladies man.  
  
"Hi Chef. I need to talk to you about something important."   
  
"Of course. Come on in, I'll make some hot chocolate." Chef said. Kenny took note of the slight tiredness in his voice. Who could blame him? It was very early in the morning.   
  
Kenny walked into Chef's house. the only really noticeable thing was the TV. Not the weird, killer TV. A new one. As big as the killer one minus the homocidal tendencies. Besides that, the house was the same as everybody elses. Odd...all the houses seemed to be the same. Chef motioned Kenny to sit on the couch, and he didm just that. he sat on the couch and got the remote for the TV. he clicked the on button and the TV quickly was on the local news. Drug use ws on the rise in this area, and it seemd that the police thought it was from one of the countless cabis and huts that surrounded this area and the people that lived there. Many of them called South Park home. On a free day, on top of the library, you could watch the town and see people go about their buisness. You could see kids and adults walk from the surrounding countryside and get shit from the town, then leave. It was kinda cool, in it's own way. Chef came back in.  
  
"okay, Kenny. What's the problem?" Chef asked as he handed Kenny some hot chocolate. Kenny took it and soon put it down. It was steaming hot, the ceramic mug not helping anybody.  
  
"Chef, i have a problem."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Okay. You know Kevin's old room?"  
  
"Yeah." Chef said, a note of sympathy in his voice.  
  
"Well, mom and dad have decided that it would be a good idea to rent it out for money. And a good amount, too. They even have a guy moving in on saturday."  
  
Chef paused for a moment, then said "Well, the room is useless and this could help your family..but, that room does hold sentimental value."  
  
Silence reigned for ten seconds. Kenny took a gulp from the hot chocolate. It was fucking hot. The liquid traveled down his throat, and it felt like there was a war going on in there, complete with napalm and flamethrowers.  
  
"Kenny, this might be good for you and your family. This way, you get more income in one month than you guys get in six months. and, you loss nothing of use."  
  
As soon as Chef said that, kenny at first felt mad. he took another gulp, gripping the mug strong enough to break iron. he put it down.  
  
"Well, Chef, i gotta go. Bye." Kenny said. He quickly left the couch and picked up his backpack.  
  
"Kenny, you're going to be okay, right"  
  
Kenny stands for a moment."Yeah...I will" He finally says.  
  
"Well, okay then. See you kids at lunch"  
  
"Oh, and what's for lunch?"Kenny said, trying to be happy for a moment.  
  
Chef smiles. "Salisbury steak." he said, his voice sending a great fucking message for all involved in the consumption of food in the South Park elementary school cafeteria.  
  
"Cool." Kenny leaves the house. The door closed, Chef returning to his preperation for work. As soon as Kenny was away from the house and heading to the bus stop, he cursed to himself. Chef had been no help. Resigned to a day of wondering, Kenny walked over to the bus stop. He was here at least fourty five minutes before the others would be here, and it was the one time he could enjoy the beauty of this part of town. It was just between dowtown and Stan's neighborhood. It was a clear space, in between two small hills. Not big enough to impede walking, but large enough to not see the town or any houses. There were two trees and some bushes behind them, and in front of them were mailboxes. it always puzzled them on who had those boxes. There were no houses near the boxes. It was a good spot to think.  
  
Kenny did just that. 


End file.
